Doitsu! I won!
by doiteain
Summary: Just some Gerita and Spamano based on games in the UEFA Euro 2012. Starting with the Italy vs England game until the end. Rated T for Romano's mouth. Mildly fluffy. Enjoy!
1. Italy vs England

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, only my strange headcanon...**

* * *

Feliciano clung onto Ludwig's arm. "Doitsuuuuuu, I'm so nervous!"

The German patted Feliciano's head, staying away from the curl that he knew all too much about. "Try not to worry too much about it, Feli."

They were sitting on the couch in front of the television and watching the football game of Italy against England, which was coming to a penalty shootout.

"I can't watch!" the little Italian yelled and he covered his eyes with the hand that wasn't attached to Ludwig.

Ludwig sighed and decided to actually pay attention to the shootout for when his Feli— erm… he meant Feliciano, would undoubtedly ask him what had happened.

Feliciano spread open the fingers covering one of his eyes right in time to watch Alessandro Diamanti score and the rest of the players on the team celebrating immediately after. Feliciano squealed with delight and tackle hugged Ludwig. "Doitsu! Doitsu! I won! I won! I won! Ve~"

Ludwig sighed but he couldn't help smiling. "Ja, Feli. I saw."

"Ve~, that means I get to play Doitsu, right?" Feliciano looked up at Ludwig, whom he hadn't stopped hugging yet.

Ludwig started for a moment. "Was?"

"Ve~ because I beat big brother England, fratello and I play Doitsu in the semifinals on Thursday!"

_Oh __Gott__,_ he had completely forgotten about that. And how was he supposed to deal with Feliciano during that? He had a hard enough time doing just that on a day-to-day basis. He looked the little Italian who was hugging him and "ve~"-ing. "Ja. And I am sure you will play very well."

"Ve~! Grazie, Doitsu!" And Feliciano hugged Ludwig even tighter. "I'll go make some pasta to celebrate, ve~" The Italian got up and bounced his way into the kitchen, even happier than usual.

Ludwig sighed. He will just have to find a way to deal.

* * *

Antonio was in the kitchen cooking for his tomatito (earlier in the game his corazón had said, "Chigi! I am trying to watch my team beat the sopracciglio bastardo! I'm trying to focus! Va via!" His tomate had the cutest habit of slipping into Italian when he was nervous~). When he had finished cooking his paella (mmm~), the Spaniard heard cheering coming from their TV room, followed no more than ten seconds later by some pretty violent swearing in Italian. Antonio came out of the kitchen with his paella, "¿Qué pasó, mi tomate? ¿Ganaste?"

Lovino rolled his eyes. "Si, idiota. What did you think the cheering was for?"

"Well then, what was the swearing for, mi amor?" Antonio asked.

Lovino grimaced. "Ora devo giocare contro il bastardo mangiapatate."

* * *

**A/N: I apologize for any errors in the Italian. It's the only language in here that I don't speak any of... (Many thanks to whomever it was who corrected my Italian!)**

**I think most of the translations are either pretty easy or not important, but for the others:**

**sopracciglio -eyebrow**

**Va via! -Go Away! (Italian)**

**¿Qué pasó, mi tomate? ¿Ganaste? -What happened, my tomato? Did you win? (Spanish)**

**Ora devo giocare contro il bastardo mangiapatate. -Now I have to play against the potato bastard. (Italian)**

**Reviews would be amazing! ^.^**


	2. Spain vs Portugal

**Disclaimer: I no own**

* * *

"¡Lovi, le gané a mi hermano!" Antonio yelled as he tackled his tomate precioso as Fábregas' penalty kick bounced in off of the post.

"Yeah, I saw, idiota," Lovino huffed.

"Lovi, are you not happy for me?" Antonio asked.

Lovino's cheeks reddened. "I never said that, bastardo."

"Awww, Lovi, you look just like a tomato!" Antonio cooed.

"Shut up." Lovino's cheeks puffed out slightly from irritation.

"But, Lovi," Antonio said, "If you aren't unhappy for me, why won't you celebrate with me?"

"I didn't celebrate because…" and Lovino finished by muttering something that Antonio couldn't hear.

"What was that, Lovi?" the Spaniard asked as he got even closer to his tesoro.

Lovino turned away from Antonio. "I said I didn't celebrate because I knew you were going to win anyways."

"Lovino had confidence in me!" Antonio yelled as he tightly hugged Lovino.

"Hmph, whatever, idiota," Lovino muttered.

"But you know what, Lovi?" Antonio asked, still not letting go.

"What?"

"I have confidence in you too for tomorrow!"

Lovino blushed an even brighter red and muttered something about cheerful tomato bastards.

"I love you, too, Lovi," Antonio said.

* * *

**A/N: yeah, so I decided that for the remaining games I'm going to post another chapter for each one! (seeing how there is going to be opportunities for gerita and/or spamano in all of them). This one is incredibly short, but oh well. I still wrote it in time to watch the germany vs italy game! :D**

**¡Lovi, le gané a mi hermano! -Lovi, I beat my brother!**

**tesoro -treasure**

**Reviews make me happy~**


	3. Italy vs Germany

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. Are you surprised?**

* * *

"Whoo-hoo!" Lovino cheered as he jumped up off of the couch. They did it! He and his fratellino beat the potato bastard!

"¡Felicidades, Lovi!" Antonio said. His Lovi looked so happy! And that of course made him happy, too.

"We won, we won, we won, we won, we won!" the normally grumpy Italian chanted while doing a bit of a victory dance.

Antonio grinned. Then, he thought of something. "Hey, Lovi, that means you're going to play my team on Sunday."

Lovino looked at him. "So? I'll start worrying about that tomorrow! All that matters right now is that il bastardo mangiopatate perso!"

Antonio laughed. His tomate could be so funny sometimes.

* * *

"Ve~!" Feli cried as the Italians won again. "Doitsu! Doitsu! Did you see?"

"Ja, Feliciano," the German said, trying not to show the disappointment on his face. How could he have not seen _that_? This was supposed to be his team's year! They should have at least made it to the finals, if not win the entire thing. But, he had to try and be happy for Feli. That Italian could sense unhappiness better than his dogs could smell fresh meat.

"Ve~, but, Ludwig, Germany played really well, too," the Italian insisted.

So Feliciano could tell how the German was feeling. Ludwig wasn't all too surprised by that, really. "Danke."

"I know! Ve~, I'll go cook something just for you to make you feel better!" And with that, Feli "ve~"-ed his way into the kitchen.

Ludwig sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Even though losing felt bad enough, he knew Feli's twin brother won't let him live it down. His cell phone rang and he sighed again. Romano must be calling to rub it in his face already. He picked it up. "Hallo?"

"Westen!" the voice on the other side yelled.

"Ja, Bruder?" Ludwig asked.

"How could you lose? You're my awesome baby Bruder and I thought your team this year was too _awesome_ to lose!" Gilbert demanded.

"I don't feel like talking about it, Osten," Ludwig said.

"Hmph. Fine. I was just being your awesome big Bruder you could come and talk to, don't mind the awesome me," Gilbert said, his last comment dripping with sarcasm.

"Where are you anyway?" Ludwig asked.

"A bar with a few other nations," Gilbert said. "I think Bulgaria got drunk off his ass, he's singing something about vampires drinking beer on the ceiling.*"

"Ja, well, if you get drunk just take a cab straight home. I don't feel like bailing you out right now," Ludwig said.

"Fine, Bruder. Spoil my fun, why don't you. Tschüss." And then Gilbert hung up on him.

Ludwig put his phone back in his pocket and tried to watch the post-game interviews of the coaches and players. He couldn't say he wasn't relieved when Feli was done cooking pasta (what else would he have cooked, really?). He walked into the kitchen and Feli put a plate of pasta in front of him that looked like a bunch of lumps with tomato sauce. It still looked and smelled delicious, but it definitely looked different from what Feliciano normally made.

"Ta-dah!" the Italian said as he sat down with his own plate. "I made you Gnocchi!"

"Danke, Feliciano."

"Do you know why I made this special, just for you?" Feli asked.

Ludwig shook his head.

"Gnocchi is made with potatoes!"

Ludwig couldn't help but smile, at least a little bit.

* * *

**A/N: so fluffy, but it was all in good fun! and Prussia made an (awesome) appearance!**

**Sorry that I posted this later than usual, but I got distracted looking at pokemon gijinka on dA... ^^;**

*** so, this may seem kind of random, but the first person who can tell me why bulgaria was singing about vampires drinking beer on the ceiling gets a gift fic! any paring! any universe! good luck!**

**Translations:**

**il bastardo mangiopatate perso -the potato bastard lost (Italian)**

**Tschüss -bye (German)**

**Reviews and constructive criticisms are ever so welcome!**


	4. Italy vs Spain

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia**

* * *

"Such a severe loss, too… ve…" Feli sighed softly.

"It's alright," Ludwig said. He patted the Italian's head awkwardly. He wasn't very good at this "comforting" thing.

"Oh! I should see how fratello is doing!" Feli said as he pulled out his cell phone.

Ludwig could guess that Romano wasn't taking the loss too well, but he decided not to say that.

"Ve~ Fratello, did you see?" Then there was yelling on the other side. "I guess so, fratello… Yes, I'm with Ludwig." More yelling on the other side. Ludwig was also pretty sure he heard the words "potato bastard" but again, he decided not to say anything. "But, fratello, make sure no one on big brother Spain's team go missing, okay?"

Ludwig's eyes widened. Would Romano really go that far?

"Yes, especially the people who scored." Again more yelling on the other side. "I don't care if the last two goals were uncalled for… Bye-bye, fratello!" Feli pocketed his cell phone and leaned into Ludwig's shoulder. "Ve~ Fratello seems to be taking it well."

Well? Wanting to make members of the winning team disappear counts as well? The German decided he didn't want to know what taking it badly was like. "That's good, Feliciano." He decided that maybe wrapping his arms around Feli's shoulders wasn't a bad idea. Even if Romano found out later and took it "badly".

* * *

Lovino absolutely refused to look at Antonio. That tomato bastard just beat his fratellino's and his team. Not just beat, absolutely crushed! 4-0! Bastardo.

"Loviiiii," the Spaniard whined. "Look at me, Lovi."

"Hmph," Lovino huffed and (if it was possible) turned even farther away from Antonio.

"Lovi," Antonio grabbed Lovino's chin between his thumb and forefinger and gently turned the Italian to face him. "You're team played very well, querido, so there's no point in getting down about it."

"Ma quattro—" Lovino started to complain.

"Ah, ah, ah," Antonio stopped him. "No complaining. Your team was maravilloso and played well. So be happy about that." And he finished his statement by giving Lovino a quick peck on the lips.

Lovino blushed right away. "What the fuck was that, idiota?"

"A celebratory kiss?" Antonio suggested.

"Bastardo, what sort of celebratory kiss was that?" Not that he wanted to be kissed by the tomato bastard! Of course not! He just thought that that kiss was pretty weak. Not that he's kissed the tomato bastard before to know that!

Antonio's eyebrows rose quickly before they quickly went back to their original location and he smirked. "Oh, so mi tomate would like a better celebratory kiss? Fusosososo~"

Lovino blushed an even brighter red. "Ch-chigi! Non ho detto questo!"

"Lovi~, you look just like a tomato!" Antonio cooed. "And I definitely think you implied it," he said as he nuzzled into his Italian's neck.

"Bastardo," Lovino said.

Antonio smiled. "Come now, Lovi. We both know you don't really think that."

* * *

**A/N: ta-dah! More Spamano and Gerita!**

**the UEFA Euro 2012 fics are done~**

**Translations:**

**Ma quattro— -But four—**

**Non ho detto questo! -I didn't say that!**

**Reviews are joyous things~**

**(And I was thinking of doing something like this based off of the Olympics this year. Let me now if there are specific pairing or event requests)**


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